What I Found Under the Tree

Six years ago, just weeks before Christmas, through my own sin, I lost my reputation, my job, my income, my platform. Five years ago, just days before Christmas I lost the one man who stood by me, who loved me loyally, my father. Christmas has not been easy. The only thing that keeps me going is what I have found every year under the tree. Every year I wake up early, eager to get a peek. Every year I receive gifts beyond measure. There, in a stack, loose papers under the tree. I don’t so much unwrap the gifts as read them.

The top paper comes with a lilting script that matches my beautiful wife. She has given me a note that says, “I love you. You are my joy.” Just beneath this one there are two more handwritten notes. Reilly has written that he loves me, gives thanks for me and prays for me. Donovan has written one just the same, with the same precise cursive his mom taught them.

Beneath that there is a more formal document, signed and sealed adoption papers. The Judge of all the earth signed in two places, both as the presiding judge and as the adopting father. The child adopted is me. Every year for Christmas I receive a reminder that I have been brought into my forever family, and that nothing can change that.

Below that paper is a receipt. It’s for a gift I’ve already received. God the Father has not only made me His Son but I have been given the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. God is with me, this day and every day. He is at work in me, this day and every day.

One layer down in the stack is another paper signed by the Judge of all the earth. It is my release form. It says that all my sins, past, present and future have already been fully paid for. It is a declaration of my innocence. This one comes complete with a seal, blood red, and marked by the signet ring of the King of Kings.

That same King gave me a copy of His declaration and promise, that He will never leave me nor forsake me, that He will wash away from me every blot and blemish, that He will carry to fruition that good work He has already begun in me, that on the day of my death I will be like Him, for I will see Him as He is.

The last paper is a promissory note. It too is signed by the King of Kings. He promises that He will not only wash my spirit clean but that He will remake my body at His return, that it will rise from its grave incorruptible, never to taste death or hardship again.

It will be another astonishing Christmas as our family gathers not under the evergreen that adorns our home but under the tree that covers it, upon which He was cursed. Merry Christmas to you all.